Trick
by raehex
Summary: Addictive personalities should never be mixed, both parties will be tricked and fall into each others traps… [Dean Ambrose/OC, rated M for smutty goodness.]


**A/N: Blame this fic entirely on the song "This Is A Trick" by the band Crosses. It is entirely that song's fault. Honestly. **

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She had known that falling asleep next to him was a bad life choice; waking up to feeling him grinding against her ass was probably a worse one. She wanted so desperately to tear herself away, she knew this wasn't going to do anything but ensnare her further into his trap, but feeling him breathing hot and heavy into her ear, gripping tightly onto her hipbone, she couldn't help but find that proverbial chain wrap tighter around her throat.

Oh god she knew this was terrible. This was stupid. This was fucking _addicting_.

He pulls her onto her back, quickly crawling on top of her, staring at her, eyes wild and shining. His hair was strewn wildly, sweaty from sleep, falling into his eyes. His chest was heaving, he was breathing so hard, and he didn't say a word, he didn't have to, his eyes said it all. He was asking, no, begging for permission, to just rip into her and find comfort and release.

Sure, she had seen Dean unhinged before, when the sparks didn't shoot off to the exact neuron they should have, when his eyes glazed over a different way than she recalled. This was one of those times, she knew what he needed, to fuck it out of his system before he did something real stupid to get rid of it. Seeing him like this always made some weird sort of fire burn in her stomach, whether in anger or fear or arousal, she hadn't quite figured it out, and she wasn't really sure she wanted that definition. She just knew he was staring at her, finding any way to pull that answer out for the question he never verbalized.

All she had to do was place her hand on his neck, and that was the only answer he needed. He grabs the back of her head and pulls her up into a kiss that is desperate, sucking and biting at her bottom lip. It makes her gasp in slight pain, giving him enough room to kiss even deeper, almost as if he were trying to suck the air out of her lungs. She still had her hand on his neck, digging her nails in slightly, scraping them down. He growls into her mouth, grabbing her wrist and slamming it above her head, holding tightly as he moves his mouth to her neck.

She swallows and opens her mouth, possibly to moan, she wasn't even sure at this point what exactly it was that she wanted, but she knew that she wanted him to touch her. It was that addiction, sparking back up again in the back of her brain. She always fell for his tricks, that gentle cuddle turning into the lascivious trailing of fingers down; an innocent kiss turning heated… he always found some way to draw it out of her.

"Don't fucking talk. Don't you say a fucking thing." He bites at her neck, a little harder than she usually would like, sucking a mark into her skin, branding her as his, proof of that mutual addiction.

_Well then. _She wishes she could move to slip her panties off, thanking herself silently for not falling asleep in actual pajama bottoms, but she also knows that if she moves her hand again, he might grab that wrist too, and then she'd be hopeless. She bites back a whimper, knowing that he needs to just get this out of his system, but goddamn did she want to help.

He lets go of her wrists and sits up, moving out of the way for her to quickly slip her panties off, giving him enough time to get rid of his own clothes. But soon, he's back on top of her, pulling her legs around his waist. He doesn't have to touch her to know how wet she is, he can tell by the way her cheeks are flushed, by the way she's biting her lip, and when he pushes himself inside of her, slowly, the little whimpers of noise she's making make him want to thrust in just a little bit harder the next time.

He grabs one of her hands, threading his fingers between hers, holding it down on the bed above her head, looking into her eyes before moving his head back down to her neck, kissing right where he had left the mark.

His gentleness threw her for a loop, she had anticipated the angry, fast desperation that usually came with that look in his eyes he had, but then his hips snap into hers, and the moan of "fuck" that comes tumbling from her lips makes him laugh darkly into her neck.

He continues with slow pace he's set, not rushing towards completion any time soon, dragging out those breathy moans and sighs from her. It was the only thing that could muffle the screaming and buzzing in his head, and as he kept up with that slow rhythm, thrusting into her hard and deep, hearing it knock the breath out of her made him start to tremble a bit on his own, knowing that her falling apart beneath him was putting him back together, even momentarily.

He grabs her face with his other hand, kissing her just as he thrusts into her even harder than before, laughing against her lips when she whispers out "oh god…"

"He has nothing to do with this."

That static is starting to form in the back of his head, and he knows he needs to go faster, despite him loving the feel of dragging this out slowly. If he draws this out too long, its not going to work, it's going to only backfire, he needs some semblance of violent shifting in his brain in order for this to keep quiet for a bit. She was the only one who could keep it absolutely quiet, no one else could; no one else could ever make it stay silent as long as she could.

She can feel the energy in him shift, and she's nearly bent in half with how he shifts the position, her legs bent back to allow for an even deeper thrust. He's fucking into her roughly now, fast and desperate, letting out little grunts of his own as he rushes towards the orgasm he needs to make everything silent. He hated that it would spring up on him like this, trailing up his spine, niggling at the back of his brain, telling him he needed this, or else he'd traipse back into other addictions to keep it quiet.

It always tricked him, always tricked him into having to take what he needed, when he needed it. He didn't like it, not that part at least. But he couldn't help it now, gripping onto her hair and just pounding into her desperately.

She could feel the building pressure, it strangling her, the loss of air to her brain a high no other drug could ever give her, and she screams out his name, her vision nothing but bright splashes of color, eyes slightly rolling backwards from the overwhelming sensation.

Feeling her fall apart beneath him, tightening around him, screaming out his name…he swore the voice in the back of his head menacingly whispered out the word "yes…" before he slammed into her hard one final time, groaning out his own release, tightening his grip on her hand. All he can hear is a buzzing silence; his vision blurred and grey, everything feeling liquid around him. He slowly pulls out, rolling over onto his back, still not really aware of his surroundings.

She lets her legs fall to the bed, splayed out however they decided to land. She knew she should probably clean herself up, she could already feel some of his cum leaking out, but she still had colors splashing in her brain, feeling out of her body.

A high they both could share.

She rolled over, kissing him lightly on the lips, her hand resting on his cheek, just needing to touch him. It sent sparks down her fingers and he could feel that electricity. They were both exhausted, they couldn't do another round this quickly, but that was all a part of the trick…they always hungered, they always thirsted, and they'd always fall into each other's traps, every time.


End file.
